


Burdens

by blehgah



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blehgah/pseuds/blehgah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke sides with the mages and doesn't kill Anders. Fenris has some words to say, as he usually does about Anders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burdens

**Author's Note:**

> Second person to keep Hawke's gender ambiguous, though there's a joke in there that kind of implies Hawke is male. Still, considering how lewd these guys can get, I wouldn't make it a defining factor.

Even as Kirkwall burns around you, it's hard to ignore the volume of a raised voice right in your ear. You're rather fond of this voice too, you won't lie, and it catches your attention easily.

"You're letting him _live_?" Fenris bellows. "He's responsible-- he's _guilty_ \-- he did exactly what mages always do, and for all your clever words and 'valiant deeds', you're going to let him go because you're _bedding him_?"

The rest of your companions exchange glances. Both Aveline and Varric step forward, but shoot you a look, waiting for your word. You bite back a sigh and give them a vague hand gesture, signalling for them to back down.

"Fenris," you call firmly. You can tell your voice cuts through to him, steely and straightforward like any blade, by the way his shoulders stiffen and his mouth tightens. Beyond the rage in his expression, you sense there must be betrayal. "This is my call, and still continues to be. I-- I'm taking this on for him. I'll take responsibility this time."

"But _why_?" Fenris' tone falters and he lowers his gaze. "You always-- Hawke, I'll follow you to hell and back, but this-- this is insane."

"I know."

Fenris snaps his eyes up to meet yours. "You _know_ \-- what the hell do you mean by that?"

Behind you, you can hear Anders' footsteps approach your back. You recognize the weight of his steps, the way his boots click against stone. A gait not quite as heavy or authoritative as Aveline's, not quite a saunter like Isabela's, nor quite so light as an elf's barefoot tread. It's the measured step of a mage whose weight isn't so much in the physical world as it is in the Fade.

Once he's within arms' reach, he... he hovers. An odd move, considering that he's usually so outspoken. Then again, you figure he must be feeling an immeasurable guilt that you and your best friend are currently discussing.

"I _know_ this is insane, Fenris. When has anything I've ever done even _approached_ some level of sanity?"

Although his lips quirk slightly at your quip, his posture doesn't change.

You cast a quick glance over your shoulder at your lover. You take his hand, though you shake your head to let him know to stay quiet, just this once.

"This is insane. People are dying left and right. My boyfriend's practically an abomination, not to mention he blew up the chantry and killed more people all at once than the lot of us can manage in a good hour. Still, I just-- I want to be selfish for once."

"Taking on the burdens of this _mage_ is hardly a selfish act, Hawke," Fenris protests.

"If it lets him live, then I'd do anything," you insist, the hard edge of your tone pressing further forward. "I've lost too much in my stay in this damned city. I've gained a lot, too, but-- I can't--"

Your speech comes to an abrupt halt as you inhale sharply. You let go of Anders in favour of pacing a tight, measured space, gesturing vaguely with your hands. "It's selfish because I don't bloody _care_ about the chantry. I don't care about the Grand Cleric, or even about Knight-Commander Asshole or First Enchanter Shithead. I just don't. What I do care about is getting out of this alive and getting through this forsaken mess."

"You're right, Hawke, that is selfish," Aveline interjects. Her voice is stiff, but you combat it easily with your cutting eyes. Her strong posture acts as her shield, but you know her; she's vulnerable to your words, to your brand of persuasion sharpened by her unyielding sense of loyalty.

"That doesn't mean I won't help as many people as I can, my dearest Captain of the Guard," you spit, "What it means is-- I have my reasons for keeping Anders alive, and every one of them is selfish. The same goes for each of you, for that matter." Exhaling, you deflate, inclining your head towards Aveline in a quiet apology. "I don't... I don't have much else. I may have a big, fancy house sitting pretty in the middle of Hightown, but it's not worth much if it's just me talking to the walls all day. Someone always wants something from me, including all of you, so if there's one thing I'm going to keep when this is all over, it'll be your damned safety."

You return your gaze to Fenris. "Whether you like it or not."

Fenris shifts his weight from foot to foot. Then, once he's decided the ground between you isn't made of hot lava, he approaches you.

"Alright," he says, "I meant it when I said I'll stay by your side. I just... I just needed to understand."

Sighing, you move a hand to rest on his shoulder. "Yes, sometimes the head on your shoulders isn't always the brightest. Unless you're doing your fancy lyrium trick, then it's pretty much the brightest thing in a fifteen meter radius."

Your companion bats your hand away, though the gesture doesn't hide the faint, wry smile on his face. "We need to move on. Contain your sense of humour for a while longer."

"I suppose that's an order, not a request?" you retort. He doesn't turn to face you, walking towards the docks instead.

The rest of your companions trail after him once you've made it clear you weren't going to take the lead right at that moment. Instead, you slide a hand to the small of Anders' back, bringing up the rear.

"Looks like I've got a knack for talking about people like they aren't hovering a foot away," you say to him under your breath, "But then again, you didn't say a word either, so I guess it's a new experience for both of us."

"I'm never going to understand why you continue to avoid speaking in a straightforward manner," Anders sighs.

"And I'm never going to understand why you let a spirit inhabit your body, but I don't let that come between us, do I?" Anders gives you a flat look. "Too soon, alright. It's all part of my favourite dance, Anders. You've experienced it first hand. And not just verbally, either."

Heaving another sigh, Anders leans into your side. "Sorry. I just-- This is all just so... fresh. I can hardly wrap my mind around anything. You saw what I did, love. I'm not... I'm not in my right mind."

"I know. That's been clear for a while. But," you pause to pull your staff from its strap against your back, "It's kept you and me alive for long enough. So let's pull off another miracle and get through this one in one piece, shall we? We can save our lover's spat for when we're not bollocks deep in abominations."

"I've seen you bollocks deep in an abomination, and it's not exactly a bad place to be, is it?" he fires back, smirking. His body is starting to thrum with the power of his magic, eyes glowing faintly.

"Hey, that's my boyfriend you're calling an abomination!"

"Keep your flirting for the bedroom, Hawke!" Varric calls from across the courtyard you've entered, his words traveling with Bianca's bolts, "We're all balls deep in abominations, and I expect you to take your fair share!"

Your laughter carries through the air, along with the heat that erupts from your staff. "Well, that's just what I do, Varric. Take burdens onto my back to save your poor balls."

"Enough talk of balls! Pay attention!" Fenris exclaims.

"I'll never stop if it means I get to hear the word 'balls' come out of your mouth again!"

In a flash, Fenris speeds by you, throwing a scowl in your direction as he passes. "I'll say 'balls' all you like if you manage to keep yourself alive with your head shoved so far in the gutter."

"I don't understand the obsession with balls," Merrill states, maintaining her innocence while covered in blood, "You've got your head stuck in the gutter? Was it because you were looking for your balls?"

Isabela laughs and the sound bounces off the surrounding stone. "Now _that's_ a line for one of your stories, Varric!"

"Why don't you all just shut up for once?" Aveline complains.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" you respond, giving a sloppy salute she can't even see.

And just like that, your moment of seriousness is over. The distraction is welcome, you can tell; it's the reason you even bother with the humour in the first place. That, and the fact that you're not exactly the best at keeping your mouth shut when you've thought of something clever to say.

Either way, you keep a close eye on Anders, and not just for the usual reason of checking him out in action. If you've made the wrong decision, you'll have to see it for yourself; for now, you'll stand by him and bask in your selfishness for as long as you can.


End file.
